


Starfleet Special Forces: Dominion's End

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Character Death, Crossover, Interspecies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25706020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: by Adam Reid
Kudos: 1
Collections: Least Expected





	Starfleet Special Forces: Dominion's End

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).

Chapter 1: "It's not Right..."

[San Francisco, Earth, Stardate 52632.1 (June 25, 2375)]

For the last several months, Legate Damar had weighed heavily on Buffi K'gar's mind, and heart. Cardassia, she realized, had been duped by the Dominion into thinking that they were equal partners when in fact the once powerful Cardassian state had become a puppet of the Founders, the Vorta, and the Jem'Hadar. It was the mad Gul Dukat, she knew, that made the Faustian bargain with them, but in his absence, it was Damar who was left with the responsibility of being the Cardassian leader.

She was on Earth to be debriefed to Starfleet Command Operations. A rare chance to go back to earth, she thought, with a touch of melancholy. It was a beautiful June afternoon in San Francisco and Buffi had on a pair of sunshades to cut down on the glare. Starfleet Command was perched upon one of the many hills of the Bay area, and in fact overlooked San Francisco Bay so that the picturesque area could be seen quite easily. Buffi always enjoyed walking through the city when she felt the need for exercise.

Buffi was right at the steps of the polished metallic building when a small tone sounded from her comm badge. "Hamato to K'gar," her Second officer/husband Raphael announced.

"K'gar here," she replied walking up the steps.

"We're detecting some anomalous sensor readings up here, kinda like a cloak. We're cross-referencing with Spacedock and the rest of the Second fleet up here. We'll let you know more about it as it develops."

"Right, keep me informed. K'gar out."

Buffi's stomach did a slight turn as she continued her walk into the large reception area of Starfleet Command. Golden models of starships decorated the sides of the walls, with banners with the Starfleet insignia and the Federation Seal decorated the walls. "Captain K'gar to see Admiral Nechayev," She told the attach officer.

"She's waiting for you, Captain, in the commissary," the assistant confirmed. "That building's closer to the bay--"

Buffi then could no longer ignore her nagging feeling when a small whine crossed her sensitive Cainian ears. Suddenly, Raph's report made sense. "GET DOWN!" she hollered at all the officers in the large room. The whine now became a scream, and the other officers did indeed run for safety. Buffi held aloft a crystal container in her left fist, and exclaimed, "ISTARI! **POWER OF--"**

The explosion obliterated her voice and all was a hellish fire and explosion.

When the smoke cleared, the Istari of Liberation stood, murder in her eyes.

"They made SUCH a mistake," She growled. Across the bay, a bluish beam hit the Golden Gate Bridge, for centuries a hallmark of human architectural achievement. At contact with the beam, the wires melted, the west tower crumbled, and the bridge fell into the Bay, within a blink of an eye. Buffi saw the culprit, high in the sky. It was an asymmetrical ship, almost resembling a series of bound-together boomerangs. "Breen," she said softly, and flew up into the stratosphere, rapidly catching up with the departing Breen fleet. Soon, she passed up the Xena in her pursuit. Other Starfleet ships, two Mirandas and an Ambassador, joined her ship, firing phasers and torpedo volleys. Buffi breached their shields, and grappled onto the ship.

Finding the closest optical sensor, Buffi addressed it, "This was, of course, a kamikaze mission," and punched the ship, causing it to shudder. With a satisfied smile, she leaped back into space, like a diver, and barreled back toward the ship at an incredible speed. The explosion lit Buffi from the back, turning her into a vengeful shadow from the vantage point of the other starships now approaching the area.

"Buffi, there's about five more ships!" Raphael exclaimed in her head.

"Pursue!" Buffi exclaimed. "Keep one of them for questioning! I'm going back to assess the damage."

She left her ship to its job and returned to the Bay. Her heart sank. Sirens wailed, going all the way back to the old air raid sirens. Flashing lights and smoke saturated her field of view. "Oh, no," she whispered to herself. "They really did it now..." The only thought that went through her mind, looking at the scene of carnage, that nothing would ever be the same.

* * *

[Hawk Haven over Arda, Stardate 52701.2 (July 14, 2375)]

"Starfleet Intelligence has confirmed that the Breen has joined the Dominion," Adam Reid told a large amount of officers in Birdsmouth, the social area of Hawk Haven. "However, that's about all they could tell us that we don't already know about the Breen. They're secretive, and they've kept to themselves, but they've made no secret about becoming a larger Quadrangle power."

Buffi sat between Captain Joshua Reid and Commander Zo Culloden, who folded her arms. It had been two weeks since the attack. Reports coming in from Deep Space Nine had reported that a battle with the Breen with the joint forces of the Romulans and the Klingons had failed. The Breen had a power-draining weapon that had foiled the Ninth fleet that the Reids had brought together. The Roger Young, the Acetal, and even the Defiant, her Xena's sister ship, had been lost. She looked around her, seeing her colleagues, and her friends, weary and war-tossed. Josh's Starfleet Special Forces, Adam's Silverhawks, and even her own X-Squad, had been taxed to their limits, keeping member worlds free from Dominion occupation. To the far Right, Kyla Kar and his K-Force UFP team and Karg's K-Force International stood restless, knowing what to do even if she and others were unsure. Gomphor the Orange and his Limboys sat in, knowing the work ahead if failure occurred for them. Even the old guard, such as Lord Lion-O's ThunderCat nobles narrowed their eyes. Buffi sighed. "...Now we know that something in the Klingon ships are resistant to whatever is draining the power grid in our Starfleet ships, and currently our Klingon generals and our Romulan commanders are working on simulations that will allow us to figure out what it is that makes this weapon work. Now, if there's any of us that aren't exactly on the chain of command who can make that happen a lot faster, please indicate now..." The sound of someone passing gas and two officers retreating from the sides of Victor Creed was his only reply.

"...I'll take that as a no, thank you Mr. Creed anyway," Adam continued, unfettered. "Starfleet Intelligence also indicates that there is a great amount of popular opinion amongst the Cardassian forces against the Dominion, but of course there's not much hope about some sort of Cardassian uprising occurring without someone at the reins of the Central Command, such as, um, Legate Damar," Adam glanced uneasily at Buffi, but her face was unreadable. "...Um, leading the effort."

Buffi's mind sparked in response. Damar! Her head jerked up, causing reactions in Josh, who looked at her with suspicion. "I'm sure all assembled here will agree," Commander Sela told them with grand, condescending gestures, "That we need to break whatever hold the Dominion has on these governments. I suggest an assassination attempt on Legate Damar and Thot Pran, the head of the Breen military. It would be relatively easy to infiltrate..."

"The Federation will NOT engage in assassinations," Josh angrily interrupted her. "And that is not an acceptable military strategy for us."

"A strategy of cowardice is more like it," Karg growled. "Sela, is that the best you can come up with, you can be much more creative than that." "What are we going to do, actually land on Cardassia and storm their headquarters?"

"Been there," Creed said, casually, "Done that."

"Unfortunately, we aren't in any sort of position to do that until we can decimate all sources of production they have. That's another story," Adam explained. "Does anyone else want to talk here? Buffi?" Buffi appeared to look out into space, not responding. "Buffi?"

"I have to talk to Damar," Buffi said, slowly, rising out of her chair. "He could be receptive, if I just pull the right strings. I did it before, I..." Buffi stopped, and looked around. "Excuse me, I have to go," she walked off to the turbolift.

An uncomfortable silence followed her departure. Adam shrugged. "Anyway. Another area of business is Empok Nor. As some of you know, It's an abandoned Cardassian ore station similar to Deep Space Nine's specifications. It has recently been host to the Cult of the Pah-wraith, who were led there by the former Gul Dukat."

"The Pah-wraiths?" Aragorn asked. "Are these similar to the Ringwraiths, the Nazgul?"

"Not quite," Adam explained. "According to Bajoran myth, the Pah-wraiths, or Kosst Amojan, were rogue Prophets who were cast out of the Celestial temple. They reside within the crystal Fire Caves on Bajor."

"Myth, Captain," Lion-o prompted, "Or fact?"

"It would seem that there's truth to the myths," Adam told the ThunderCat Lord. "Late last year, Dukat somehow was able to have himself possessed by a Pah-wraith, who transported in stealth to the station, and entered the Wormhole via the Orb of Change."

"The same Orb that sent the other "Me" the year before, that right?" Creed added.

"It took months before the wormhole was reopened and the Pah-wraith was sent out," Adam finished. "The Admiral wants a volunteer to go to the station, and to see if we can make sure that Dukat has no way to summon them again."

Frodo Baggins stood. "I will."

"I don't envy you," Aragorn told him. "Again."

"I've done a bit of research on Bajoran culture. Lots of the ancient books on the Kosst Amojan are forbidden to read. But what I have read is frightening. It's entirely possible that they are capable of doing what Sauron could not."

"For the moment, Counselor," Josh reminded him, "Survey the station. Take note of the artifacts left behind, and of anything that might point to a further development."

"Aye Captain," Frodo said with a nod.

"We'll schedule it so that you can disembark from the border in three weeks," Josh added.

"More business?" Adam asked.

"Yes," Gomphor spoke up. "On behalf of Melanie and Ruka, I must ask that we be able to perform tests on his new SoundSmasher system on the Haven."

"We'll set that up," the StationMaster agreed.

"With that out of the way, this meeting is ended. Thank you all for coming." As the group dispersed, Adam gathered his PADDs together and headed back up to the Eyrie, when Sela stopped him.

"Captain," she asked, with a demeanor that disguised any true intentions she actually had, "I wish to talk to you when you have a moment...?"

* * *

Buffi took the turbolift to the transporter area, where she had herself sent to the Xena, where she activated her communication console. "Computer, send a personal communiqu to Captain Benjamin Sisko at Deep Space Nine..."

[Vanden Prime, Stardate 52725.4 (July 18, 2375)]

Damar looked around the cave dug out of the planetoid. If he were in a better position to judge, he would consider his resistance headquarters to be rather pathetic. However, these were times that he could hardly afford to judge with such standards. I hope I've made the right choice, he thought. I refuse to live this way, to allow Buran to live this way, and his children, as slaves to that liquid witch and that putrid Weyoun. Damar wasn't sure about the Destiny of Cardassia, but he knew what it dared not be. He was full of questions about what to do next... ...Not the least of which was, "Why didn't I do this sooner, before it came to all of this?"

"I warned you, Damar."

He turned around. He nearly cried out upon laying eyes on her. "You again! This...This is all your doing, isn't it? Punishment for...for..."

"Don't flatter yourself," Buffi sneered. "I'm here on official business. You're about to figure it out."

"Excuse me?"

"My riddle, Damar. Remember? 'You speak in riddles'," Buffi mocked him.

"I knew this was gonna happen. You know why?"

Damar's shoulders slumped. "Why?"

"Because you're a DUPE, that's why!" Buffi exclaimed. "Damn it, Yakid, You were duped by Dukat, and you allowed yourself to be continued to be duped by  
the Dominion. And I warned you. Warned you that you were on a leash, two years ago!"

"Buffi..."

"And there's only so much that the Istari can do, we're only five, and there's such a way to go before this whole mess is seen out..."

"Buffi!"

Buffi's attention focused on Damar. "What?"

"You were right."

Buffi's stance shifted back as she looked at him. "Thank you, Yakid. It only took sixteen years and a blown-out war for you to admit that."

"Well, I'm about to start a revolution against my own people," Damar admitted. "This was a lesson hard learned. And those loyal to me don't know anything about terrorism. That's what I've become, isn't it? A terrorist?"

"I can happily say... no. I'm not the Istari of Terrorism; I'm the Istari of Liberation. You are officially a liberator. And it happens that I learned all the best tricks from the best liberator of them all."

"Legate!" a voice called out. "Step back so I can deal with..."

"What were you going to do, Rusot?" Damar asked his assistant reproachfully.

"Don't you recognize this woman? This is the Federation's "Smart Torpedo" you told me about in your numerous reports...?" Rusot looked at her disbelievingly.

"Sir, This is Captain Buffi K'gar of the USS Xena. She is the former ground troop coordinator of the Ninth fleet!"

He exploded. "You lost me half of the Ninth Order!"

"You lost ME all of the Seventh Fleet," Buffi countered. "That's what war is--banging each other on the head until someone says 'I give up!'

"There were two others," Rusot continued. "A fiery anomaly which was able to penetrate hulls and bulkheads, exploding ships from within. A blue-white one which repaired ships that we had incapacitated, giving Starfleet more time to move...You're saying, Legate, that those...were people?"

"Yes," Damar told him. "The Five Istari of the Valar. I've done my research," he directed to Buffi. "Every thousand or so years, five individuals are chosen by a group of alien beings called the Valar. Those chosen are extended in life, given enormous powers, and set out to help the galaxy."

"The Istari," Rusot sneered. "A myth. Wizards and Magic."

"What you consider myth and magic, Rusot, turned two hundred of your ships into very real scrap," Buffi said. "There's five of us. Two of us are human.  
The other is an extra-dimensional being and the fifth is from Arda."

"I want no help from her," Rusot made plain. "She's murdered a thousand of our men."

"This isn't a point of debate or discussion," Damar told Rusot, drilling his gaze into the subordinate. "She's free to come and go as she pleases, for no reason other than we can't stop her. She's going to help us to drive the Dominion away."

"Um... Not exactly," Buffi admitted.

Damar looked crestfallen. "I can't believe you came all this way to gloat."

"As you know, The former Obsidian operative Garak, the Changeling Odo and Colon--ahem--Commander Kira were invited by you to help yourselves with your resistance movement. I'm going to be helping you in some other ways," Buffi told them. "For one thing, your people most likely never heard that speech of yours. I'd recommend a more... grass-roots approach." Rusot's expression was contempt behind Damar who seemed to be listening. "Cardassia is more than just it's military force, more than it's glinns and its guls and it's legates of the Central Command. It was more than the Obsidian Order, more than it's border disputes and metagenic weapons and whatever under the Crosses you guys came up with. You're more than what we see. You're people. You're mothers and babies and kids and old men in rocking chairs and teenage boys and girls who want to know what their futures lie. You're men, who want to provide for your families the best you can. "

Rusot blinked and asked, "And?"

"And," Buffi continued, "That's who you're aiming to have their minds change. And that's going to be hard, considering the brainwashing you and the Dominion have been working them over with. With your actions," She explained, pacing, "You need to let them know, that what's going on isn't right, but that they will be all right. Does that make any sense?"

"Perhaps, Captain, we should have a fight song," Rusot said derisively. "As if we were Klingons or something." With that, he stormed away to other duties.

"That's your assistant?" Buffi asked Damar, who nodded "He's a real dick, isn't he?"

"You are the same Buffi I remember," Damar said with one of his dazzling 40 megawatt smiles, which used to transfix Buffi. "We were so alike, you and I. What happened to us?"

"You HIT me, Damar," Buffi growled. "You told me that I deserved it when you hit me. You drank. You always apologized, said it would be better, but it never was!" She shook her head at him, sadly, and asked, "Haven't you learned anything, Damar? It's like the lady said, 'How you gonna win if you ain't right within'?"

"I thought...I hoped that I'd made a change when I put the bottle back on the shelf," Damar admitted.

"It's not enough," Buffi scolded him, angrily, then sighed. "But it's a start."

Damar started to say something, to the effect of apologizing for his abuse, for injuring her emerging spirit, but found he hadn't the words. He decided to hold those words, when he had actions to match the sentiment.

Buffi sat with some of Damar's other Guls, offering her kanar, which she politely declined. "I know you," she said to one of them, a rare female gul that averted her eyes. "You're Gul Ocett. You are one of the secondary Guls of the First Order. And loyal to Damar, I'm assuming."

"That's right." she said, noncommittally.

"You're also the cousin of Gar Maruf," She continued.

"I am. Is he well?"

"He's still a member of K-Force International, though he's expatriated from Cardassia. I'm sure that I can arrange for him to be reunited with you..."

"That would be kind," she said, with a slight smile.

"I would like information from some of you. I might be able to gather you more allies, if you can help me."

None of them looked at her. Buffi was about to fire off a remark, when a woman behind her told her, "Don't mind them. They're a bit afraid of you, I think, for destroying all those ships." Buffi considered, and asked, "Who are you? You're not a soldier" She wore a plain beige outfit, with a long skirt and black boots.

"My name's Oliana. Oliana Maruf."

"You're Gar's sister!" Buffi exclaimed. "He told me about you. He said the two of you were very close."

"We were, before he was punished for having a conscience," she admitted. "My cousin Logue here misses him too, though she's too proud to admit it."

Ocett responded with a dubious look to her cousin. "Gul Marcan is my Husband. I'm a atmospheric chemist, and he keeps me on board his ship sometimes. He says it's safer for me here. He's afraid the Dominion is going to look for me and the children to kill us or hold us for ransom."

"Is this true?" Buffi asked the rest of them. "How many of you have wives and children back home?"

"Most of us, except for Rusot," Ocett told her. "It's rumored that he prefers his Kardasi instead of us Kardaso," she said, which raised a hail of raucous laughter amongst the group. "...Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"There's nothing worse than a sexually frustrated Cardassian," Buffi said, pensively, "Especially one with an ax to grind." She looked at Ocett and told her, " I recommend you keep an eye on him."

"Why should we listen to you?" a Gul asked her.

"Because the first rule of being in a resistance cell is to look out for each other, sir. For good or for bad."

"That's good advice," a familiar voice agreed from behind Buffi. She turned around and exclaimed, "You're here! Oliana, Logue, this is Constable Odo and Commander Kira Nerys. Some of you might recognize Mister Elim Garak."

Garak nodded, as did most of the Cardassians. "Well, that's as good as a handshake," Buffi said mirthfully as she got up and told Kira, "That uniform looks weird on you. How does it feel?"

"Like a disguise, which it mostly is," Kira admitted. "And why am I not surprised that you're here?"

"Humph. Because Buffi K'gar is famous for putting her finger in the pot," Odo said, with his usual dour demeanor.

"You're still grumpy because you couldn't figure out that it was a different version of Victor Creed that showed up at DS9 last year, and couldn't stick the blame of those two corporals' death on him," Buffi accused. "That's OK. Theoretically, he forgives you." Buffi turned her attention to Kira. "Earlier this year, you held off the Romulans. That took a lot of guts, Nerys."

"It had to be done."

"Well, It was all for the best. Both the Federation and the Romulans have a new appreciation for Bajor, thanks to you." She looked around and told them. "These people will tell you all you need to know to win. And I will be around. Here's my two cents," The Istari of Liberation handed out an isolinear rod to each of the guls. "Put this on each of your attack ships. Give it to all your resistance leaders. Plug it into your communication circuit panels whenever you attack. Make sure all the civilians can hear."

Kira looked at her curiously, and said, "You're a real rabble-rouser, aren't you, K'gar?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm just a big old troublemaker," Buffi replied with a wink. "Oh, and here's something that might come in handy in battle" Kira was given a golden disk, which contained the Bajoran insignia. The Cainian walked back over to Damar, who smiled and told her, "I appreciate your coming here. I..."

"Don't," Buffi warned him. "No, Damar, not yet. I'll be watching you. Don't forget why you fight, and keep the memory of your son's eyes with you." With that cryptic statement, Buffi walked out, presumably to the airlock. Damar walked back over, to Garak, Kira and Odo, who spoke, tersely with Rusot. Oliana looked on with her cousin, with concern, and shared a knowing glance. Yes. They would keep an eye on Rusot.

[Rinaka Primespace, Stardate 52750.8(July 25,2375)]

A week later, a mission to retake Rinaka Prime from the Dominion hold was underway. Odo stood on the bridge of the small ship, advising Gul Ocett on her next moves. At a moment before the strike began, her glinn inserted an isorod into the circuit board. Music filled the chamber, which also was transmitted in all frequencies. Buffi wisely programmed the rods with source-evading software, so that no attacking ship could triangulate the position from the transmission. Odo thought the song appropriate for K'gar, and perhaps for this rebellion. She vexed the Changeling, this Istari. Perhaps it was his pragmatism and resistance to such ideas as magic and destiny. But K'gar presented a compelling argument:

It's not right  
But it's okay  
I'm gonna make it anyway  
Pack your bags  
Up and leave  
Don't you dare come runnin' back to me  
It's not right  
But it's okay  
I'm gonna make it anyway  
Close the door behind you  
Leave your key  
I'd rather be alone than unhappy!

Odo looked at the base on the screen, and, for a moment, thought he could almost see a figure amongst the fighters, strafing the Teval shipyard.

"She kept her word," Ocett observed. "She's with us."

"Huh," Was all Odo could manage.

Buffi slammed herself into the fusion chamber, and reveled in her invulnerability. It's begun, Buffi thought to herself, the beginning of the end of this storm that had come to pass. This song that had come to her from the past would make for the perfect rallying cry to the most important thing a rebellion could need: The support of the common people. Soon, Cardassian housewives soothing their babies would be humming this song, pining for their soldier husbands, knowing who was responsible. Soon, disgruntled Cardassian officers would use the song as a cover to mutiny against the Vorta who forced them to fight their fellow Cardassian brethren. Soon, it would be the song that would drive a massive army to defeat the Dominion at Cardassia Prime. And she would be there, encouraging her champion. And, most importantly of all, the part of her life that caused her the most shame would no longer be dark, but shine in closure. She continued her work.

* * *

The orders?" he had asked himself, out loud.

The Bajoran woman, Commander Kira, perhaps more of an expert than he was willing to admit to such matters of unfairness, snapped back, "Yeah, Damar, what kind of people give those orders?"

And Kira had made him think about his own romanticized feelings toward the old Cardassian Union, who certainly would kill one's family if they stepped out of line.

And who did he have to thank for his epiphany?

Buffi, K'gar, his former lover, who championed his cause, under the guise of becoming his muse. He now knew better.

Buffi stood by the gate, expectantly, to see if the mission had worked. The look on Damar's face was such that he might as well have failed.

"Was it worth it, witch?" He told her. "Worth getting my wife and son killed so that you could have yourself a champion against the Dominion?"

"You sonovabitch," she countered. "How dare you!"

"Did you think I didn't notice?" Damar accused. "Your music, each piece an outrage against a cruel lover? You can take an analogy only so far, Buffi, before the point becomes clear. It's between you and me, and what happened before. Haven't I done enough? Haven't I proven myself to be sorry? Did my family have to die before you'd accept my apology? How far does your little vendetta against me have to go?"

Kira and Garak, to their credit, had tried, almost desperately, to avoid the confrontation. One subordinate of Damar had already been liquidated that day. "He'd been so quiet on the trip back," Kira commented to Garak. "Now we know why."

"I had heard that Damar's past had included a few Illicit affairs, but I would not have believed that K'gar would be among them," Garak replied.

Kira tapped a few controls at a command console, checking on their payload. "It's not so much that I'm surprised that Damar would be abusive," she said absently, "So much that Buffi would actually put up with it for any amount of time."

"Strange, that the Obsidian order was ever aware with any Central command officer consorting with someone from the Federation. The first time K'gar shows up on file, is when she attacked Cardassia Prime."

"It must have changed her, being abused," Kira said to herself.

Back behind them, continued in a private chamber, the confrontation continued. "This is not my fault, Damar," Buffi said to her defense. "I'm not the one who put them in harm's way to begin with. The moment you broke from the Dominion, you should have arranged to have them taken to safety..."

"I DID! I had them on the first shuttle out to a peripheral colony the minute I sent that speech, but they were found. Found and killed on the spot."

"Oh, no torturing, Damar? to find out what scant information they had about you? I don't suppose they pulled that little `five lights instead of four' trick on the wife and kid, did they?"

Whatever emotional control Damar had throughout his ordeal had been spent.

He lunged for Buffi's throat.

Buffi stood perfectly still as Damar madly, futilely tried to choke her, until his rage had subsided, and he then looked up at her. Tears stained her finely furred face, turning tan into reddish brown. His hands retreated to his sides. "I-I'm sorry, Buffi, I..."

"Me too," was all Buffi could manage to say, and retreated out of the bunk-chamber, to jog away to the gate.

Damar stood there, and staggered to the bunk, tears forming in his own eyes. He peered beyond the door, to see if anyone was within listening distance. Then, finally, the walls of reserve and Cardassian stoicism were allowed to break down, and in the bunk, Yakid Damar wept, silently.

* * *

[Stardate 52791.5(August 1, 2375 13:24 NZST)]

As far as prisons go, New Zealand wasn't so bad. There were jobs to maintain the lush green landscapes of the volcanic island, to be sure, but as far as actual hard labor? It was rather easy to muddle through. It was especially better when one was a mutant, one with powers exceeding that of normal humans. Dr. Henry McCoy walked the green, taking note of the plants with a group of Bolians, inmates from the Orion Syndicate. He found them to be dullards and grandiose talkers. In fact, he found no one on the entire island to bother talking to other than one of the psychologists, a Vulcan named Sikar. When he first was incarcerated, he scoffed at the facility, telling Sikar, "Your posh prison is a gilded cage, nothing which could possibly swerve me from what you consider to be "wrong" behavior. It's a joke, and mildly insulting." Sikar pointed out to him what he could not do here that would be far more punishing than any type of torture could bring about. "Logic serves, Doctor, that what we need is what we perceive loss from when the stimulus is taken away. It then follows that this loss can be construed as a basis of behavior modification, as in your case. This land is fascinating to the biochemical mind, doubtless, due to the diversity of its various life forms. However, you have no means to properly study it and to use it in ways that serve your own ends. Therein lies your punishment."

McCoy was dumbstruck that day, realizing the logic trap. That was close to sixteen months ago, that he was captured. Buffi K'gar. He had received a transmission from himself, paradoxically, warning him from the retribution he was about to receive, and berating him from using his gifts, treasonously, for the Dominion, reminding him of his Eternal Allegiance to the Dread Lord En Sabah Nur, the Apocalypse...

"McCoy!" a guard called out. "You have a visitor!"

A Minoan and a Acamarian guard flanked him, and escorted him to the elderly man who regarded McCoy with amusement. "Well, this must be such a shock to you," he said, with a sparkle in his eye. "Not what you expected, is it?"

The scientist looked at the man, who wore an ornate, multicolored robe, with gilded belt and cuffs. "I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure, Mister...?"

"I'm called Flint," the old man said. "I'm a bit disappointed that you don't recognize me, because they told me that in your home reality I was supposed to be someone quite important. A ruler of some kind."

"I only served the High Lord," McCoy told him. "They called him Apocalypse."

"My, Apocalypse, was it?" Flint said, with curiosity. "What a dreadful name to call yourself. If I remember my Bible lessons, the Apocalypse was the final battle between good and evil in the End Days, am I right?"

"Survival of the fittest," McCoy snarled. "Darwinian perfection that proved to be quite beneficial to those of us born with something extra, such as myself."

"I know a thing or two about being born with something extra," Flint said, with a wan smile. "Tell, me doctor, your strict medical opinion...how old am I?"

"I'd say you would be a flatscan specimen--no offense--"

"None taken."

"--Roughly around the age of seventy-five to eighty years old, give or take five years. I'm losing patience, Mr. Flint, I have several more months of nothing to do on this godforsaken garden--"

"Would it interest you to know that My true age is around sixty times that?"

"You are five thousand years old?" McCoy gasped. "That must mean that you are some sort of mutant as well, perhaps an External...?"

"I was born an orphan, in Egypt, and soon traded as a slave to Mesopotamia," Flint explained. "My birth name was Nur."

McCoy, who looked off at the lagoon in the far distance, slowly brought his gaze directly to the man in front of him. It could not be. The man had no visible sign of being the one he obeyed without question, who allowed him to perform his studies with impunity. The eyes, he believed, would prove to be the matching feature. He saw the same steel-blue eyes, the same, laser-sharp intent, the same, sparking intelligence in this man. However removed from his own reality, it was true. It was En Sabah Nur before him. Almost instinctively, he fell to one knee.

"Oh, get up!" Flint said, embarrassedly. McCoy looked up at him, tears in his eyes. "I must have been some kind of fugly -looking fellow for you not to be able to recognize me off the bat. Oh well. I'm here to put you to task."

"Yes," McCoy said, without any pretense of trepidation.

"I want you to help the Istari of Liberation. It means you have to go up against the Dominion."

"Screw the motherfucking Dominion, I only live to serve you," McCoy spat.

"I'm not Apocalypse, Henry," Flint said, softly.

"You're close enough for me."

* * *

[Stardate 52791.9 (1 August 2375) 21:35 FTB Time)

Hawk Haven, its majestic golden wings spread widely over its multitude of ships, held court behind the beautiful planetary vista of Arda. Dodging ships left and right, an ornate, avian-shaped shuttle made its way from the New Gondolin station to the docking station underneath the Haven. At the open air dock, Captain Adam Reid stood by, waiting as the shuttle docked and its passengers disembarked.

"Sirs," Adam addressed them. "Welcome back."

The high-elven lord, Elrond and the King of Gondor, Elessar Aragorn Arathornsson stepped forth, joining the Starfleet officer.

"If you'll allow me to take you to my office gentlemen?" Adam invited them out into the corridor.

"I've always been impressed with the...standards of Starfleet ships," Aragorn noted. "I thought it was merely my looking with archaic eyes into the future, but it's true that Starfleet ships really are meant for peace of mind. Klingon ships are more spartan, though.

They stir the blood with annoyance."

"Romulan ships are simple, they give nothing, nor do they take away," Elrond added. "However, you will not hear my saying anything ill in the range of Commander Sela."

Adam chuckled. The Romulan Commander, representing her government in their fleet, always held high praises for her own culture, even though she had been pointed out more and more of its faults. A true nationalist.

"She'll be joining our counsels, by and by," Adam told them. "She's going to be instrumental in what we'll be asking you to do." This induced a shared look between Adam's guests as they walked onward.

"This, gentlemen, is the Eyrie," Adam announced. "My nerve center of my Hawk Haven."

"Aptly named," Elrond mused. "And this is your Birdsmouth below?"

"Yes."

"I like this station, Captain Reid. I shall miss your protection," he told Adam. "Istari."

"This way," Adam said, opening his door. He noticed the reaction from Aragorn and Elrond from the inside of the door. He craned his neck to see, and Sela was there, nearly sitting on the edge of his antique Chicago-style desk. Honestly, he thought. She'll push her luck till she falls off the Eyrie. "Ah, Commander, I see you found your way to my office all by your self. Ahem." he cleared his throat, and Sela slinked off the desk.

"Commander," Elrond addressed her coldly.

"Gentlemen," Sela returned, her ability to seem accommodating pushed to the maximum, "We welcome you to these discussions."

"Should we feel welcome? Captain?" Aragorn eyed her with concern. He felt an affinity with other planets dealing with the Romulan Imperial machine in this uncomfortable alliance.

"The Commander has a proposal for you, the official representatives of Arda," Reid explained.

"We want a number of Quendi ships, equipped with Romulan cloaking devices, to be placed with a contingent of Starfleet and Klingon ships near the Front lines to take out a number of Dominion supply lines. We want to try to counter the damage that the recent Gowron regime incurred upon this effort," Sela told them. "We have found that the technology of your vessels have an added phase resonance effect when coupled with our cloaking devices, rendering them, in effect, even more `cloaked' than our own. "The Romulan Empire knows better now than to deceive lesser allies now, after the incident at Bajor," Sela noted.

"Much less members of the Federation," noted Aragorn. "It's been months since then. However, The Elves keep their own ships. Elrond alone can decide."

"I've professed, often, a wish to keep stronger ties with the Romulans," Elrond confessed. "And as much as I have my misgivings, I will do this thing."

"Excellent," Sela beamed. "Preparations can be made immediately. I can have the--"

"There will be conditions," Elrond interrupted her, putting an authoritative hand into the air. "My ship captains will command their ships. Any Romulan technicians for your cloaking devices must be subordinate." Sela scowled and contemplated protesting, when Elrond smiled wanly. "You will find, Commander, that when it comes to matters of war, that our divergent tribes are not unlike."

Adam looked at the two of them, and noticed a vague sense of connection between Sela and Elrond, at a level that he felt, if he didn't comprehend. Aragorn looked at him, and nodded. Ah-ha, Adam thought. It's that Numenorean blood in him. He's got some sort of empathic power. "We'll make arrangements that will be satisfactory," Sela said, muted, walking out the door without fanfare or excuse. Adam Reid dropped his pretense of formality once she was away and asked, "Do you trust this? If you don't, I can drop this. It's up to you." "Why do you really want this Elven fleet?" Elrond asked, directly. "Gandalf told me that he was going to be doing things to help Damar's resistance. I think he meant helping Buffi K'gar help Damar." "Damar. She uttered that name when she left at our last meeting, if I recall," Aragorn noted. Lion-o had asked who that was, and I had to shrug.

I'm afraid I don't keep up with all the names." "I'm not always on the mark on understanding what Buffi does sometimes. She told me about Damar, and I can't believe she thinks she can push him into becoming..." Adam tried to choose his words carefully upon reflection, to Aragorn. "Well, you."

"Me?" the King of Gondor said. "I'm not sure I follow." "She wants Damar to become a benevolent ruler of Cardassia, and she thinks she can mold him to that end. But you were never molded,exactly...were you?"

"Aragorn was raised in my house for many years, as a son," Elrond explained. "He always knew of his bloodline to Numenor and to Gondor. He never expected the path that bloodline would take. None of us did. The Istari of Liberation may yet grasp at straws and sin in her presumption."

"Gandalf also had Frodo Baggins move to Empok Nor," Adam remarked. "As you may recall, here was a Bajoran cult holed up there recently, and he wanted to make sure that weren't any actual supernatural forces at work. I'm surprised at Gandalf, really, that he used the word `supernatural'."

Aragorn turned his head towards Adam and responded, "Oh?"

"It's never as easy as that, is it Elessar?" Adam replied, knowingly.

* * *

[Stardate 5281 1.2(28 August 2375) O630 FTB time]

Quiet. Empok Nor was a ghost station. Frodo approached its corridors with apprehension, because he wasn't completely convinced that they had all left. The followers of the Kosst Amojan had been cloistered here, and perhaps there were some of the faithful left behind. Frodo Baggins knew enough about cults to know that it usually took one man to keep a cult together. Pull him out, and the rest are left without direction. But you never know where the next seed of evil would reside.

He made his way to the promenade, using his staff to focus his Istari gift to make his way through locked doors and blocked passages. Frodo tried not to notice the ghoulish light that cast its pall across the Promenade, with its stark kiosks, stripped bare.

"Hello?" He absently called out. "Is there anyone here?" He released a nervous chuckle. "Anyone left?" Nothing was heard. Frodo walked around an altar, covered in stale bread offerings and deadened red candles. Red was everywhere, and the pah-wraith icon looked familiar enough for Frodo to shudder at its sight. "It would indeed turn my stomach if He were being worshipped here," he said aloud.

He walked out of the temple, and out toward the habitat ring. He tried to remember where Dukat made his residence. the Istari decided that if he could get his hands on any volumes on the Pah-wraiths, then he could give something back to Gandalf. It took him several minutes to take the long trek to the habitat ring. He found the door to Dukat's quarters to be adorned with gold and red. He frowned, and opened the door. A small altar lay in the middle. several scrolls and artifacts lay, scattered across the main room. Frodo looked at one of the scrolls. It was written in red Bajoran glyphs, and in an archaic language. He put the scroll into his bag, and looked at what looked like a small doll or figurine. He puzzled at it and picked it up. He found that it was hot to the touch. Hastily putting the doll into his bag, he moved out of the room, and made his way back to a main corridor. The light was as sickly as it was in the promenade, he noted, and hoped to leave the ghost station soon.

"Dum de dum de dum..."

Frodo froze. The voice was deep, rough, and utterly familiar. "Hello?" he called out, with apprehension.

"BABY," the voice broke out in song, "CAN YOU DIG YOUR MAN?!?!"

Frodo's lip curled up involuntarily as he heard the voice singing...badly. "Who is it? I'm Lieutenant Commander Baggins, from Starfleet. I'm evacuating any stragglers from this station."

"Um... No thank you..." the voice answered.

"If you'd just let me know where you are, we could talk," Frodo offered

"Baggins...Baggins... Frodo Baggins?" The voice, suddenly interested. "Now what are you, bunny boy, doing here?"

"Bunny--who are you??" Frodo exclaimed, slightly annoyed.

"It can be like one of those old TV shows I used to tune in on," the voice replied. "The one where they bring out voices from your past--Hey! Kind of like this, right Frodo?"

"I don't recognize your voice, sir."

"Well, let's try this on for size," the disembodied voice, closer than ever, remarked "'It's all dark and this will never be taken away, oh, woe is me...'" It sounded exactly like the hobbit.

"Do not make me find you now, friend," Frodo said in a low tone. "I don't care for being mocked."

"Oh, Frodo, don't knock it till you've tried it! It's real fun... let's do me, shall we?" The voice went down to the deep depths of darkness as it roared "I am the big bad lord of Darkness and dread and I want to kill you all, aaaaarrrrrgh...."

Frodo froze. a figure stood before him. It was a Hobbit. He was dressed in a gaudy, tight, purple-and-black outfit with two gold stripes down the front of his outfit. His collar resembled a cobra-head as it circled his neck and worked its way down. His face looked exactly like Frodo's, with the exception of long, stringy hair arranged in a topknot, and let to draggle down to his shoulders behind him. His left eye was replaced by a black device and a red glowing sensor.

"Have we solved the puzzle, yet, Frodo?" he asked, tossing his hair behind him. "Or do I have to quote from that book of ours again?"

"Sauron." Frodo said, and the word lay, still, in the air.

"C'est moi," Sauron confirmed. "In the flesh, believe it or not."

"If we're quoting Tolkien, you shouldn't even be around," Frodo accused. "You left this world, this plane, this dimension?"

"The old man was vague," Sauron scoffed. "And besides, he needed a happy ending. Had to die. But this isn't fiction, Fro-bro, and I've been here for the past sixteen years."

"Looking like me."

"I put in quite a number of failsafes into my device," Sauron explained, faintly pleased with himself. "You see, it absorbed elements of the psyche, the mental energies, if you will, into itself for storage. It was a psionic battery, for me to store parts of `me' for future reference. Apparently over the years, it stored up quite a number of psionic traces. When the ring was destroyed, somehow it was... purged of almost all of those traces... all but your own. The feedback loop, as it was destroyed, left me with only your mental trace, your template for my resurrection. So, in a sense it performed it's function."

Frodo looked upon him, who once was a Lord of Darkness. And He laughed. "You've fallen so far, Sauron," Frodo said, still chuckling, "That you might as well have died! Now," He said with authority, "What's your business here? And I don't think the Pah-wraith Cult is taking in new members..."

"The Pah-wraiths are making plans," Sauron told him, holding up a finger. "And nobody's going to like it. Where Sauron wanted to cover the land in darkness," Sauron said, theatrically covering the finger with the palm of his other hand, "The Pah-wraiths plan to turn it ablaze." With that he revealed his hand was indeed on fire, glowing with eldritch power. Sauron looked at it, amusedly, and explained, "Ah yes. Not fallen quite as far as in first reflection, eh?"

"I get the feeling this is more than a local threat," Frodo said, narrowing his eyes.

"It is. However, It seems that all our heroes are fighting those Dominioneers, while the true threat plans and schemes in the Fire Caves of Bajor."

"Why are you here?" Frodo demanded

"I'm into salvage," Sauron explained. "I'm solitary, I keep no crew, but I do find that these old abandoned stations provide me with some... sustenance."

"I'm sure," Frodo dryly replied. "I'm taking my leave of Empok Nor. I suggest you do the same."

"Oh, be friendly a bit, Frodo Baggins, we're practically family!" Sauron said, and took some pleasure in Frodo's wince. "Allow us to take something from the replicators, perhaps. I'll give you a bottle of kanar for your trouble."

Frodo chuckled at him, and replied, "I haven't been that thirsty in a long time," and turned away from him.

Sauron shrugged and did likewise.

The twin phaser blasts hit them at the same time, catching them off-guard and knocking them unconscious. Frodo, his mind, ablaze with pain barely was able to make out a final image before he lost all consciousness: a pair of bare, webbed feet walking around him.

* * *

[Stardate 52819.1(29 August 2375) 14:32 FTB Time] **FREEDOM!**

Maruf Gar tore his arm free from the restraint that had become loosened from the last jarring blast. The last four hours were spent coming out of the drug induced stupor that the Vorta had him under to poke and prod the Kakarii genetic knowledge from him. It seemed that McCoy's methodology wasn't unique, he thought bitterly. In those four hours, he found that he was shaved, naked, and given a bizarre tattoo across his chest. One thing's for certain, Maruf thought, The Vorta are kinky little constructs. The lab was ruined, but silent. It seemed for the moment that he was free to move about.

He found a scientist's overalls, and hastily slipped them on. He looked further, to see if any of his belongings were kept here. Drawers revealed his K-Force commbadge, and his boots. He smiled. The Cardassian never went anywhere without his cowboy boots.

He heard movement, and cries for speed. "This way!"

"Come on, She's going to make her run any moment!"

Gar took note of the last voice. It was his cousin, Logue! "Logue? Logue!!!"

Gul Logue Ocett ran back to the door and cried, "Gar? Gar, you're alive!"

"I don't know about that..." Gar said, motioning to the lab around him. Tubes containing half-formed bodies were still intact. "I think they were trying to clone me."

"We have to get you out of here!" Logue exclaimed. She grasped his arm and pulled him out of the lab.

Many dead Vorta littered the corridor, and it seemed to Gar that most of them died protecting their clones. Their faces were those of pleading as they held the tubes in a mortal embrace. He shook his head as he continued on. He was stuffed into a small shuttle which was too crowded as it was. "Are we clear?" a voice cried. 

"Yes! Punch it!" another responded. "Go!"

A violent lurch send the pod back out into space. Gar was pressed against a window, and he saw the planetoid that the facility was placed. A white and gold streak razed the installation, leaving it laid to waste in an eruption of red and gold, faded to black.

"What was that?" he breathed. "Was that one of the..."

"It was K'gar," Ocett told him. "She was the one that found out you were there. She convinced Commander Kira that it was an important installation to hit. They didn't even know it was a cloning facility for the Vorta."

"It wasn't," Gar said, numbly. "It was a cloning facility... for Kakarii."

"We're docking with the ship... NOW!" the pilot cried out. A crunching noise immediately followed. Gar was awash with movement around him as he was taken to the rogue ship's sickbay.

"Gar? GAR!" a voice called out.

"Oly? Oliana!" Gar called out to his sister, who walked alongside him down the corridor of the ship.

"Stay with him, Oly," Ocett told her cousin as she made her way to the bridge. Several Jem'hadar ships had the Trager surrounded. Ocet took her place on the bridge and told her helmsman, "They couldn't have detected us so soon with this many ships. I think it's safe to say that we've been exposed."

"I'm initiating evasive maneuvers," he replied. "Pattern K'gar Delta."

The planetoid went quiet. Buffi's solitary figure emerged from the debris of the cloning plant and saw the gang-up above. "This is K'gar. Maintain your maneuvers, and I'll see if I can't run interference."

The capital craft took the point on the Trager as the ten other ships flanked it. The Trager played a game of keep-away, while the Istari of Liberation slammed her form into each of the ships, resembling a cosmic game of pinball. Gigantic dents pocked the flank of each of the Jem'hadar attack craft. Phasers struck the Cardassian ship, hitting its rear as it tried to avoid the shots. Buffi then aimed for their weapons, crushing their beam emitters. Many times the phaser burst hit her, but even she was surprised that it splashed around her, resembling a water-balloon of light. The Trager managed to make it to warp.

Buffi left the attack fleet crippled, weaponless, defenseless, but alive. She rushed out of orbit, matching the speed of the ship, and arduously made her way to the airlock. when she entered, she gasped for breath, realizing that she was able to breathe again. She shrugged off the help of the airlock attendant, and walked, briskly, to the bridge. "That was no responsive attack," Buffi told Ocett. "That was definitely premeditated. I think they came from the Carolis Delta sector, and that's no stone's throw."

"Are you saying that they allowed us to destroy their cloning facility simply to wipe us out later?" Ocet asked her, with skepticism.

"I'm saying that they wanted to do what it took to get the job done right," Buffi said, her eyes narrowed. "Communications officer, turn on the Dominion public channel."

The communications officer switched a knob, and the bridge was filled with the silky, slightly nauseating tone of Weyoun, Chief administrator to the Dominion in the Alpha Quadrant. "... and thanks to the heroic efforts of Gul Revok, Damar was lured to Cardassia for a meeting with five other traitors." Buffi shared a panicked look with Ocett as she heard the propagandist message.

"But his co-conspirators were killed before they could begin plotting against the people of Cardassia. And Damar himself was killed while trying to penetrate our defense perimeter in a stolen Dominion vessel."

"Oh, no," Buffi said, tearing up. Not now! Not when everything was coming to this point!

"I'm also pleased to report that just hours ago, acting on information obtained by our intelligence operatives, our brave troops began a coordinated assault on Damar's terrorist bases. From Atbar Prime to Regulak Four... from Simperia to Quinor Seven... our forces have eliminated a total of eighteen rebel bases."

"By the three crosses..." Buffi swore. "They got them all. Revok betrayed us all, that BITCH!" Buffi slammed her arm against the top of the console, shattering the top. She barely got out the fury she spat at Ocett, her breathing deep and punctuated with sniffles. "We were lured here to be eliminated. It was only the grace of the Valar that the Trager got out of there at all, that we survived! And... now Damar is...is..."

"We don't know if he's dead for sure, K'gar!" Ocett snapped at her, a hardness in her eyes. "And besides, as long as we're alive..."

"As long as we're alive, what? We start up again? We don't have time,Ocett! The timetable of war's already on, and we're just one arm! Well, I can't put anyone else in danger, not with this much on the line, not with everything I've invested! If I'm destined to destroy every single Dominion ship in the Alpha Quadrant, then.. then...that's what I'll do. And...DAMN anyone... who gets in my way!" She turned around and left the bridge, small marks leaving their imprint upon the bare metal floor behind her.

* * *

[Empok Nor, 15:28 FTB Time]

"Wakey, Wakey..." a thin, serpentine voice called to Frodo, who still floundered in troubled dreams.

"Uh...wh...?"

"Well spoken," Sauron told the semi-conscious hobbit. "Worthy of an Istari."

"The group was right. Who would have predicted that Sauron the Dark Lord and Frodo Baggins would be in the same place at the exact same time?" the unknown voice boasted. "To be honest, I was a little disappointed."

"What were you expecting, friend? A giant Eyeball? A presence of smoke and redness? Those are metaphors. I swear, there should have been some sort of description in that damned book...!"

"Okay, I'm awake...and I'm bound. And Sauron's next to me, similarly bound.

Are you sure I'm not having a nightmare still?" Frodo said, wearily.

"No nightmare, this is very real, sir, and long due, I must say." Frodo looked at him. Pale blue eyes were framed by a shock of pale blonde hair.

The man appeared to also be a hobbit, and he wore a dark blue suit, and bare, webbed feet.

"Elbereth!" Frodo swore. "You?"

"Yes, dear, dear, sweet, sweet, sir." he replied, sweetly. "Did i get it right? I had the impression you liked when I fawned over you."

"Um...?" Sauron interjected. "Consider the source when I say this is getting really strange."

The altar of the Pah-wraiths towered above their captor, forming a perverse halo around his head. He laughed at Sauron. "Is that all you are? I thought you were an Eye, not a Mouth."

"Actually, that was my servant, Ed--AAH!" Sauron yelled as he was struck in the face.

"If I wanted any shit from you I would have squeezed your little head," the man snarled at the reeling Sauron.

"All right, Smagol," Frodo said, in a calm, clear voice. "You're in control. What do you want?"

"But there's so many ways to go, isn't there?" Smagol replied, biting his lip. Shall we go the road of torture? the way of utter, utter, carnal gratification? the river of catharsis? What's the best path to take, `Counselor'? Spare me your little psychological tricks. I'm trained as a counselor too, I know them all."

"You have us tied up, on an isolated space station in the middle of Dominion territory. I think it's safe to assume you have something to say to us."

"You're right. I'm doing this all wrong. I should have just said what's been weighted on my heart all these years and be done with it."

Frodo and Sauron looked at him, for several moments. "Well?" Sauron tried to prompt him.

"You two ruined my life."

Frodo nodded at him. "You are perfectly free to believe that, Smagol, but I don't think this is exactly any kind of healthy way of expressing your anger..."

"Oh, would you stop with the psychobabble!" Sauron growled at Frodo. "It's fairly obvious what he's going to do to us!"

Smagol grinned, unpleasantly. "All in time, Dark Lord. This has to be enjoyable above all."

"Let's start with you, Smagol. You killed your cousin, Dagol," Frodo calmly reminded him. "For Sauron's ring."

"Killed my cousin and lover, Dagol," Smagol corrected, and smiled at the aback that Frodo revealed. "Oh yes, the "love that dare not speak its name" as they say, was shared between him and I. It was isolated, and I always knew I was different. I was not entirely a hobbit, you see. A cluster of five of us were born after the small community suffered a blackout months prior. We were different; our minds were linked and we knew...knew that we were superior. My parents were killed by us. My grandmother took pity on me and kept me away from the death that the others knew. My only friend was Dagol. As we grew, I found that I loved him. I jumped into the love, knowing that my differences were so great from others already. He was naive, and shared in my love and lusts until that day on the river. It called. It tapped into the part of my brain that had linked with the others, and it told me what it was. It wanted me. It would show me the life I had left behind when the Others were killed. That desire, that want... surpassed my love."

"Sounds like you were a bad seed long before I came into the picture," Sauron sniffed. "You killed your lover for jewelry. That's not just a crime, that's just plain tacky."

"It was YOUR fault!" Smagol screamed, nose to nose, at Sauron. "I would have killed an army to be linked to the Others again! It was utter cruelty of your Ring to offer such a thing as I wanted just so I could ferry it off to you!"

"But you didn't, did you?" Frodo pointed out. "You took enjoyment from the powers of the Ring."

"By then I was hooked. The ring shrouded me, allowing me to take from others. Grandmother overlooked so much, but soon could not protect me any longer. I left, banished, and warped from the power of your `device'."

"You made your way to the Misty mountains, living a hermit's existence in the caves, killing and eating of orcflesh," Frodo continued. "Up until the time my uncle Bilbo found you."

"A Blessing and a Curse, was the coming of Baggins," Smagol recalled with a smile. You see, I'd been tossed aside, by the thing, without a by-your-leave. It wanted back to You, Sauron, and went, unbidden to Bilbo. By then this body was a mere shell, a parasite. The real me was stuck inside, absorbed by the crystal within the device. I found myself wandering the corridors of the Ring, seeing a section of yourself doing eternal battle with Isildur, over and over again... the blood, the hate, the rage inside the ring...and our minds were linked..."

"Seventy years later..." Sauron, apparently unconcerned for his safety, "I got my Nine to figure out the general location of the thing (that whole Mirkwood project was a bust, had to figure out a way to consolidate) Figured out what exactly the real estate was the Dunedain were protecting...."

"That would be the Rangers," Frodo chimed in.

"Yah. Duh." Sauron spat at Frodo. "Don't interrupt, kids, it's my turn to spin. Anyway, I was amassing my stock of Orcs in Mordor and those Trolls, and Easterlings, and all sorts of good stuff. It had to be done right. I needed...." Sauron prompted.

"The One Ring," Frodo and Smagol flatly finished.

"Yesss!" Sauron exclaimed. "I wanted my power to turn matter into dark matter back in full, and in order to do that, I needed all of my mental faculties. I needed...!"

"WE GET IT ALREADY!" Smagol shrieked.

"Don't interrupt me, son, I'm on a roll," Sauron rambled on, shifting his weight off the bindings. "All right, anyway, I'm getting these things trained hatched, whatever. I had enough control to keep them wanting to work to any end I wanted which was..." Sauron frowned and narrowed his eyes. "Now what was that end again...? Oh, yeah, that world in darkness thing..."

"I hope you weren't like that before you fell," Smagol, remarked, pacing between them, "It would be like putting a great big "Kick Us!" sign on the whole planet!"

"Indeed," Frodo added, bringing the attention back to Smagol as he asked, "Smagol, if your consciousness was trapped inside Sauron's ring, how can you even remember Bilbo, and myself?"

"Yes, that's a good question isn't it Frodo?" Smagol, anxious to switch conversation away from the more than willing Sauron, replied, with an animated point towards him. "Well, here's the thing, the mind, as you know is a very, very, VERY intriguing, complex device, which no one can predict what can happen when you put a BRAIN SUCKING DEVICE TO IT!!!!" he screamed back at Sauron, who yawned, and looked behind him at his nails. "Ugh! You see, most of me became part of the ring, the other part which deals with wanting and needing and such...stayed behind. That was what Gollum was, was nothing but a wanting and needing and desiring person. That kind of person needs something, don't you agree, Counselor?"

Frodo tried to come up with an answer, but find he could not. He bowed his head.

"That's right. Hard to come up with an answer to that on the fly. That's what I found when I was getting that education as a counselor. `What was happening to me?' I was split, from my Self and my Id, in two different containers. I was curds without the whey. But what was left into that wheedling, desiccated little psyche, was deserving of love and understanding. Don't you think?"

"Absolutely. You were a figure to be pitied," Frodo said, without doubt.

"'Pitied'. Fuck your pity, Baggins!" Smagol growled. "I wanted--I needed someone..."

Frodo slowly began to make the connection. Gollum, fawning over him, anxious for attention, jealous of Samwise. Smagol, lover of his cousin Dagol... Fawning... lover..."By Elbereth...you..." Frodo was pained to even say it out loud "...Me?"

He screwed his face up and groaned, "Ohhhh, don't look so virtuous, okay? I saw HIS face, the way HE looked at you. It's not like you aren't completely unused to the attentions of another man. Get over yourself."

"What?"

"The lawn boy, Baggins," Sauron explained. "Half-wit, or whatever his name is."

"Samwise Gamgee," Smagol announced. "Eyebrows that needed plucked, a rhino just pleading for a plasty... poor class, even for a hobbit."

Frodo fumed.

"Forgive me," Smagol said with near-glee, "I had to let my inner bitch out. I'm sure you can understand why."

"Wait a minute," Sauron interjected. "Are you saying that you and Half-breed had some sort of Love Thang?"

"This isn't something you do to someone you're supposed to have feelings for, Smagol!" Frodo cried.

"It is if they're bad feelings," Sauron offered.

Frodo turned to the Pirate. "I entirely suggest , if you wish to keep at bay whatever fate is coming to you when your mortal body is gone, to SHUT UP," He roared. As he shuffled his body to look directly at Sauron for another pointed statement, the Bajoran figurine fell out of his bag. Sauron looked at it with amazement, then back at Frodo.

"We can discuss what we can do to make amends," Smagol said, calmly, "When I return. I'm getting a drink. No, No, please, don't get up," he concluded, with a cruel smile.

A beat or so passed before they could no longer hear his feet slap against the floor panels.

"Ho-ho-ho!" Sauron chortled at the Hobbit. "Keeping some secrets are we? If you're as learned as I think you are, you know that that lil' dolly is the key to getting out of this mess!"

"Do you really want to risk invoking a Pah-wraith just to get free of Smagol?" Frodo hissed. "Are you that stupid?"

"I'm smart enough to know that If I were to get my hands on the power of a Pah-wraith--an Ainur--We won't be having quite the same discussions on the good old days!" Sauron said with aplomb. "Hand it over, and everything will be just fine."

Frodo responded by trying to reach with his bound hand for the figurine. Sauron responded in kind, though he ended up face down before Frodo's feet.

Frodo kicked him square in the nose with his free foot, sending his adversary skidding across the floor.

"Very classy," Sauron said, sniffing at his bloodied nose, "But you also kicked the doll away." Indeed, the doll was exactly between them. Frodo's eyes went wide and lunged for it, but Sauron turned around and tackled him with his back. Frodo rolled back toward the wall, and tried to make ground again, but Sauron already had the doll within his hands, although they were bound behind his back. "That's right! Who's the man? What, what!" Sauron exclaimed with victory. "Now, let's see if I remember the words... Smagol came in, his phaser brandished, as Sauron started chanting in Bajoran. "Dorrah tolka bretri pah'rahn,meedor. Dorrah tolka ullkess pah'rahn..." He said, with a darkness he'd never shown in earnest until then. Behind his back, he snapped the figure in two, releasing a swirl of red energy. Frodo tried to grab for his staff, but found he was transfixed where he lay. Smagol tried to fire at the energy vortex, but found the weapon had no power. Angrily, he threw it aside.

The energy dispersed and Sauron lay there, unmoving. Frodo moved toward him, his hands still bound. Perhaps they killed him, he thought. They did not.

Sauron's eye flew open. Angry, roiling blood red, it rolled over toward the Hobbit's direction. "Istari of Creation, Emissary of Valinor," It addressed him. "Kosst Amojan will take great pleasure in killing you."

* * *

[Chin'tokaSpace 14:56 FTB Time]

Near the Chin'toka system, unassuming Jem'hadar fighters tried to destroy an extremely angry Buffi K'gar, who was much better at it, with a rallying cry that could be heard all the way back to the border.

What is this I see (No!)  
You don't come home to me (Oh, No!)  
When you don't come home to me (Man!)  
Can't deal  
Can't bear

You keep tellin' me lies  
But to your surprise  
Look I found her red coat  
And you're (Bitch!)  
Caught out there

**I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW!**   
**I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW!**   
**AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!**

**I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW!**   
**I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW!**   
**I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW!**   
**AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!**   
**I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW!**

The ships didn't last long. Buffi impaled every insect-like attack vessel through their fair-to-middling warp cores, causing an instant and blinding explosion. Eventually, the Jem'hadar firsts got smart and gave her a wide perimeter on her funereal march to Cardassia. "Blowing up the Jem'hadar won't make you feel any more better about yourself," a familiar voice called out behind her. Which made the person all the more special, considering the fact that she traveled in the cruel extremes of a hard vacuum and warp speeds. It was Gandalf.

"What do you want me to do?" she cried. They're gone. One little slip and my liberation army is wiped out. I should have known... I should have protected more of them."

"You were able to protect Gar Maruf's family at least," Gandalf offered. "Oliana and Logue are safe behind the border, with their kin.

"Eighteen bases of operation, Gandalf!" Buffi exclaimed, nearly on the verge of tears. "If even one of them were able to survive, we could start over. Gandalf, this war has to end, NOW."

"I know, young one," Gandalf said, softly. "I am helping you. I contacted quite a few old friends of mine to help you through this."

"I put so much into Damar," Buffi continued, barely hearing the elder Wizard. "He was exactly where I wanted him."

"His wife and his son died."

"I didn't wish death on his family!" she replied. They were innocents. If only... If only they were taken out of harm's way... and now I'll never get a chance to tell Damar how sorry I was for saying those things then and there..."

"You may yet," the White Wizard informed her. "Damar lives."

"He lives?" Buffi asked for confirmation, which Gandalf gave with a slight nod. "He lives, he lives! Yes! Perhaps there is a grain of hope, after all!"

"For this war, or for reconciliation with him?" she was asked.

Buffi considered, and replied, "Both, if I have any kind of luck left."

"Do you want to hear about who I've given you for help?" Gandalf asked. Behind him, a starship decloaked, into a form Buffi recognized immediately as her own, the Xena.

"Looks like you're going to do better than that," Buffi said, tapping her comm-badge. Immediately, she dematerialized from the vacuum. Gandalf followed her into the ship. Buffi walked onto the bridge of the Defiant-class ship, and visually took stock of her crew and special team, X-Squad. Her younger brother Bruffi K'gar, the ThunderCat Katren-naro and his wife, the former SilverHawk Emily Hart, stood to the back. Her first officer, Peregrin Took, sat in the center seat, with her Husband Raphael at the helm.

"Since when did we get a cloaking device?" Buffi asked, to no one in particular.

"Commander Sela gave it to us as a gift. She informed me she had no intention of seeing the Dominion get a chance to destroy you," Pippin told her, with a wistful smile.

"That is not all," Gandalf announced, with authority. Around the Xena, space exploded with kaleidoscopic beauty, as ship after graceful Elven starship decloaked around them. "one hundred twenty-eight strong, they are, and as powerful as any you'll see," Gandalf told her. "These we of the wise shall bring to the battle for this Quadrant."

"We've been hitting supply trains on the periphery of their claimed territories," Pippin explained.

"They're gonna retreat soon within Cardassian space, so if we're gonna do anything, it's got to be soon," Raphael told her.

"Right," Buffi agreed.

"I will have this fleet guard the Chin'toka system, cloaked, until you are able to regain contact with Damar."

"When that happens, Gandalf," Buffi suggested, "Tell Adam, Josh, Frodo and Seth to make their way to Cardassia."

"Nay, Istari of Liberation," Gandalf told her, which caused her eyes to droop. He put his hand at her shoulder and smiled. "I'll bring them all."

"How many Istari could there possibly be in the Quadrant, Gandalf?" Pippin asked, with curiosity.

"We'll soon find out," Buffi told Pippin with a wink. "Mister Took, the conn remains yours." She walked past him to Raphael, and whispered, "I'll make this up to you, Love, I swear." Raphael, she knew, had little patience for anything other than her. She felt a pang of guilt when she took advantage of that patience.

Regardless, he replied, sincerely, "Love times two." With that she left again. The Turtle sat at his station, and he had to wonder, Has Buffi been running towards something, or away from it? He sighed, and went back to his work.

* * *

[Cardassia Prime, Stardate 52901.2 (1 September 2375)]

Kira Nerys took a certain satisfaction when she saw the reaction that common Cardassian people had upon sight of Damar. She had no idea that they were moved by his short-lived rebellion against the Dominion. It was if he was a heroic figure to them. The next Galor. When the unlikely trio of Kira, Elim Garak and Yakid Damar decided to use this to their advantage, and struck out on Cardassia Prime, the people swelled to their defense, chanting Damar's name.

"Freedom for Cardassia!" Garak exclaimed, inciting the crowd to exclaim themselves.

"And you thought I was a rabble rouser," a voice said from behind her. Kira turned sharply, and relaxed when she saw Buffi, hidden in a rough-hewn cloak. "If it wasn't for Gandalf, I'd have lost all hope. And look at that..."

"All over the planet, the people have made him into a legend," Kira explained. "I can't explain it." She mulled it over a bit and considered, "Perhaps it was you, and your music."

"You can't make a person think a certain way like that," the Istari of Liberation said with a shake of her head. "There has to be something there that wants to believe."

"Damar."

"Who'd have thunk it," Buffi agreed. "Where are you staying?"

"Myself, Garak and the `Legend' are holed up in Garak's old home. In the basement," she added, with irony. Hearing something in the air, she cocked her head and asked, "Hear that?"

Buffi grinned. "Sounds like they're singing to Yakid. Not bad either."

Yacha dul  
Arkam gree  
Nar tima balna Kardasi  
Mak da chul  
Gar am di  
Laka chanakar a ba gazee

"It's the song," Buffi told her, a bit awestruck herself. "They're singing it in Cardassian!"

Ten minutes later, Damar was able to get away from the crowd so that they could escape to Mila's basement. He was surprised to see another becloaked person with them. "I'm sorry, we must leave," he started to explain.

Buffi revealed her face to him, and smiled. "Yakid."

"Buffi!" he exclaimed before quieting himself. "We heard vague reports what happened to the Trager after the Dominion hit. What happened to Gul Ocett and her crew?"

"Safely in Federation Space," Buffi reassured him. "Guests of Hawk haven and the Seventh fleet, I imagine." She frowned a bit and asked, "Where's Rusot?  
I thought he'd be with you, bitching and moaning all the way..."

"Rusot is dead. I was forced to shoot him ...the day you left." He added with a small smile, "He was...being a real dick."

Buffi smiled and tried not to laugh at his attempt at humor. "It's in poor taste," she pointed out, "To make light of the dead."

"I don't think they mind," Damar replied. "Here's the house."

"Oh, no no no," Buffi tsked. "Not good at all. we're going to have to think a little global if we're going to..."

"Take the grass-roots approach?" Damar offered. "Told you. simple ideas are the best ones. Everyone wants freedom. Not just the soldiers."

"I wish Rusot could have understood...And I wish I could have, in time."

"And who's this?" an elderly Cardassian woman asked, with annoyance. "I suppose she wants something to eat as well."

"This is Buffi K'gar," Garak introduced the Cainian. "Ms. K'gar, this is Mila, who cared for me in the past."

"Hello, ma'am," Buffi greeted her. "Don't worry, I won't be staying much longer."

The five of them walked down the basement stairs, where soup bowls and an old comm station were covered in drop cloths. Damar sat down and bowed his head in exhaustion.

"There is time yet," Buffi reassured him. "The Dominion's withdrawn into Cardassian space. They probably think that the Federation's going to let it stand, but they don't have the whole story. Right now there's over a hundred Elven ships in the Chin'toka system alone, and more on the way with Hawk Haven, the Seventh Fleet, the Ninth Fleet, K-Force and every other team we could muster up. If someone wants to fight in the next two weeks, Cardassia's going to be the place to be."

"I'm not sure that's good news," Damar said with apprehension. "Cardassia could be devastated by an attack of that magnitude."

"That's why we should think about making it a non-target," Buffi explained. "Power outages, sabotage of factories. We need to tie their shoelaces together as much as possible so that the battle stays in the sky. without a connection to them, the Jem'hadar are forced to use their own limited strategies, and the Breen won't be much of a threat for long."

"It sounds reasonable," Damar conceded, "But I don't want to underestimate Weyoun for one second. He and the Changeling will know the second we strike."

"Then that's the second target--Dominion Headquarters," Kira concluded. "All we need to do is find a way in."

"As much as I want to help, I have my own mission," Buffi told them. "Gandalf said that he was gathering the Istari. For a long time we've suspected that Cardassia long ago had a host of Istari themselves, but were banished or subdued. I'm going to some of your holy grounds to find a lead."

"More magic," Damar commented. "It's been tempestuous thus far."

Just like us, she thought to herself. "Can't win a war for you," Buffi replied with a shrug. "But I have faith in you," she admitted. "More than I thought I would. "

"The people out there...they believe in me as well," Damar said with a shiver. "Maybe because of you, maybe because...I'm doing something right?"

"Maybe," Buffi softly suggested, "You're believing in yourself as well." She looked directly at him and had to break away after a minute. "Well, this is it," she said, going up the wooden stairs. "I'll be watching."

Damar let her walk halfway up before calling out, "Purple."

"Huh?"

"That was the color of Buran's eyes."

"Never forget," she told him, and was gone.

Damar took a bowl of soup from Mila and took a sip. "Never."

end


End file.
